Or What You Will
by Gilgaer
Summary: In a laughable dare to get back at an imaginative Dean Thomas, Draco attempts to get under Ginny's skin and 'see which way sparks fly'.As it turns out, they have a lot more in common then originally thought. alt. 6 year.
1. Time Never Stops for Love

Hello, again! I have finally found a fanfiction endeavor I like! Hopefully (cross your fingers) I will continue with this one, because I have plans for it to go somewhere! It helps that it is summer and I have actual, not wished-for, time to write! So enjoy. This is my shot at British slang (no I am not British, but they are and I have recently picked up on some terms they use in the good 'ole UK. By the way, I'm going to London next year so SEE YA!!!) and my attempt at romance. I hope you enjoy it and **review** with your comments…

Gilgaer

p.s. it is all Jo's. sadly enough for me…its not mine! I cry bittersweet tears!

* * *

Chapter One

Time Never Stops for Love

_Love is a double-edged sword, _thought Ginny Weasley as she looked at Dean Thomas through misty eyes. He stood there, fidgeting and tense, his brown hair and medium-length fringe brushing his eyes, which looked so…relieved? Relieved about what? To be dumping her? After nearly two years together? She felt disgusted inside, but also a hollow pit of remorse. The common room, usually so warm and comforting, took on a blurred, angry look as she stared into his dry face. Hardly hearing his clichéd "it's not you; it's me," Ginny flipped her long red hair and strode out the door, ignoring his flabbergasted squawk. Not turning around, she marched away, angrily rubbing the place at the top of her heart that now pained her in a way she had never known before.

Subconsciously, she knew she deserved better, but she didn't care. The relief that had spread across Dean's face as he said goodbye would stay with her forever, along with the pain that was so sharp, and at the same time so dull. Tears trickled over her freckles and pooled in the lines of her mouth. They were salty; salty like the ocean and like bitterness.

Trying to regain rationality, she drifted into her thoughts. Dean had been her first relationship beyond 'friends'. She had trusted him, trusted in his judgment, relieving to him her thoughts and fears and secrets. In her naivety she had let him take control of her heart, which he had then taken and smashed into her face. Love, the most treacherous thing, had shown her something she desperately wished for, and then, with the sweet taste on her tongue, dropped her into a lake of bittersweet tears that were more bitter than sweet. The unexpected short drop and sudden stop left her dangling, and she was afraid to look down. She didn't want to hit bottom.

True, she had held on to Dean, even though she had found it pointless. She had tried to find what she had seen in Harry, in other people's relationships, in Dean. But it hadn't been there.

_I should have expected this. I _did_ expect this. Why didn't I pay attention? _she lamented.

Ginny wandered the halls, lost in her thoughts of regret, when a voice squeaked from behind her,

"Miss Weasley, is that you? What you be doing wandering the halls, miss? Doby is heading to the kitchen when he sees you walking and wonders to himself why Miss isn't in class like everyone else." He spotted her tear stained face when she whirled around, caught by surprise. The house elf looked on in confusion. His bat like ears and large green bulbous eyes stared up at her in uncertainty, his eyes alight with the want to please and the confusion at her tears. He'd seen Winky sad and crying, but he'd never seen a human cry. "Miss?" He said again, earnestly.

"Lunch is over, Doby?"

"Oh, yes, Miss," the house elf squeaked. "Ten minutes ago. Doby thinks that you should hurry to class, Miss."

"Oh, shite!" she yelled, her relationship problems forgotten. The sudden realization that, _no,_ times does not stop for love, and the fact that she was _ten minutes late _for _potions _stirred her into action. Picking up her feet, the turned around and ran. "Thanks Doby!" she called.

"Doby is only happy to be serving Miss," he piped after her. Then, waving a sock after her in farewell, continued on his way back to the kitchen.

Ginny ran along the corridors, down to the dungeon. Her breath caught in her throat as she pounded around a corner, into the stone passage leading down to dungeon three. She was going to get it with Snape. He hated Gryffindors, much less late Gryffindors.

Skidding to a stop in front of the heavy wooden door, she threw it open, nearly crashing through it. Stopping suddenly she leaned heavily on the doorjamb, breath coming in gasps.

"Now—" Snape cut his speech short as the door swung open. Eighteen students whip lashed around, eyes wide at her tear-streaked face, flyaway red hair, and overall frazzled appearance. Snape lifted one eyebrow and flicked oily hair out of his face, eyeing her discomposure and tardiness with a steely air. He looked extremely pale against his dark robes, more pale than usual, but Ginny declined to notice this. She was in enough trouble as it was to speculate over his personal doings. It was Snape, she didn't trust him, and nor did anyone else, for that matter.

"Miss Weasley," Snape drawled, his dark sinister eyes lit up in obvious annoyment of her public display of embarrassment. "How nice of you to join us"

Ginny gulped, fear and embarrassment rising in a rush of blood to her cheeks. The blush was accentuated by his piercing gaze. She sorely wished he couldn't do wand less legilimacy, as many of Voldemort's cronies could. So people said, anyway.

"Sorry, sir," she said looking down and nearly running to her seat. Snape's lip curled. Her friend, Ruby Malson, stared at her in distress. "Ginny!" the strawberry-blond girl cried, brown eyes wide. The she lowered her voice. "What happened?"

She looked so worried! Ginny's heart went out to her compassionate friend.

"Dean broke up with me," she whispered after sliding onto her chipped wooden stool and placing her book bag at her side with a thud. She could feel the tears that welled in her eyes but she shoved them down. There was no way she would cry because of that boy. She wasn't going to show him that he'd hurt her. Tears gone, she looked at her friend. It was well known that Ruby had crushed on Dean for a while before he'd asked Ginny out. The girl had been crushed, but now she adamantly stated that she was over him. Thankfully, her short, slightly plump friend looked shocked.

"No!"

Ginny nodded unhappily.

"I'm so sorry! What was the idiot's reason?" Ginny attempted a smile.

"He gave me the clichéd break up routine, and said he didn't have feelings for me anymore, but for Lavender Brown."

Ruby looked up at her sharply. 'What?" Her eyes unfocused, and a sad look crossed her face, soon replaced by a look of disgust. "The slimy bastard! You for Lavender? He must be stupider than I thought."

Ginny nodded again, a small smile peeking out at the corners of her lips. "Yeah and—" she was cut off by someone clearing their throat behind them. The two girls spun around to see Snape, lip curled in a sneer. "I see that, while you are having a lovely chat, you have _nothing done._ Twenty points from Gryffindor for your lack of productivity." He narrowed his eyes before spitting out his final sentence.

"Get to work." Spinning around, he stalked over to the other students' cauldrons, angrily pointing out their flaws.

The girls quickly complied with his order. Ruby poked her wand at the flames under the cauldron which had been extinguished. Ginny, wiping away her unease and deciding to not let anything else ruin her day, went to the cupboard to get the ingredients. Her goal for the day was soon crushed as Draco Malfoy, platinum hair perfect as always, joined her at the back with hardly a look or sneer in her direction. His immediate indifference piqued the anger in Ginny which had been smoldering since Dean's un-eloquent break-up speech.

Turning her face away in disdain, she concentrated on retrieving her ingredients from the lacquered wood shelves. Reaching for the last ingredients, yarrow root and centipede claws, she felt cold skin, smooth as marble, brush against the underside of her wrist. It could have been accident, but the jolt of electricity that raced down Ginny's spine told her it was not. Angrily glaring at him, she caught sight of his face. It was chiseled from perfect white marble, and eyes swirling with opaque storm-gray clouds tore her hate at Dean away. Instead, she directed it at him. The face, so cunning, so beautiful and haunting goaded her on, goaded her into a rage. Brown eyes smoldering, she grabbed the claws, preparing to leave when a silky smooth voice stopped her in her tracks. In a voice only she could her, he whispered,

"You think very much like a Slytherin, Weasley, and your blush, I think, finally rivals your hair. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go wash my hands; they are very…" he trailed off, lips turned up in a smile as his gaze traveled over her blushing features. Eyes narrowing slightly, he breathed "filthy." Turning, he flowed away, success in his every move. Ignoring the smug, knowing look he had left her with, Ginny withdrew, trembling, to her seat. She didn't know if she wanted to go over there and slap him or listen to his seductive voice and imagine….

Horrified at where her thoughts were going, she sat down next to Ruby. Feeling his penetrating glance as he nudged and spoke to one of his cronies--Crabbe or Goyle, whichever blundering idiot it was--she fought down her anger. She breathed in and out as she pulverized the centipede claws. Ruby looked at her, startled.

"That upset about Dean?" she asked, haltingly.

"No," Ginny spat. Then she glanced apologetically at Ruby. "I guess I am. It doesn't help that the Slytherins keep sending me such knowing glances, making my skin crawl…" she trailed off again, hoping Ruby didn't notice her skin crawling in unwanted pleasure, instead of repulsion. She left the topic there. "Let's get started making the Draught of Forgetfulness. I could really use some right now!" Exchanging a grin, Ruby peered at the book. "OK, is says to add the centipede claws and the Wolffe's sap at the same time. The potion should now turn—red! Good, now it says…." The time continued on at its melancholy pace.

The class continued in muffled semi-silence, with the murmurings of partners muffled in the fog-like opaque steam rising from their cauldrons. Potions _glubbed _and gargled, fires crackled, and ingredients fell with echoing _thunks_.

The potions were simmering for the last twenty minutes of class when the door was slammed open for the second time that day. This time it was Ginny's turn to spin around in her seat and see a tall lanky girl silhouetted in the doorway. A quick, accidental glance showed Ginny that Draco was slightly surprised, with one silver eyebrow raised, and Snape only slightly peeved. Then again, it _was_ a Slytherin.

"Blaise Zabini," he said reprovingly. "Have a seat with your partner for the remainder of the class."

She didn't seem to hear him. Instead, she stormed down to his desk and slammed a small piece of thick parchment on it. Snape looked mildly interested. An oily eyebrow rose. "Detention with me Friday? If Filch insists, though I find it hardly necessary. Very well. Have a seat."

She tossed her long black-brown hair and strutted to the seat next to Draco. Peeking from under her long, form-fitting black robes could be seen a green tank-top, a ridiculous thing to wear in the dungeon, and hip-hugging black denims. The green nicely accentuated her dark brown eyes and hair. They leaned toward each other and started talking in hushed voices.

Ginny turned back the see the potion a deep cobalt blue. It was done. Corking a flask, she and Ruby shouldered their bags and handed the potion to Snape, who took in the blue color without comment.

They were halfway out the door when he called her back.

"Ms. Weasley, due to your tardiness you will serve detention Friday night. Come to my office after dinner. You too, Ms. Zabini." Blaise's mouth dropped open in protest. Then, resigned, she shouldered her bag and pushed past Ginny, 'accidentally' shoving her into the doorframe.

"One wrong word Friday night and your dragon shite. They could use some fertilizer down in the greenhouse," she hissed. Then she turned and walked quickly up the corridor to the hall where students clamored beyond. As the two girls walked side by side Ruby turned to her.

"Oh, yeah, and she _definitely _wanted to be stuck in detention with you," she mimicked, a perfect imitation of Blaise. "The Slytherins are sure a warm lot, aren't they?" Nodding and holding back mirth, the two disappeared up the steps to Ancient Runes.

From behind a statue of Redfast the Ruffled, stormy eyes looked on in far-off amusement.

* * *

Draco stared past the slender fit redhead amiably talking with that strawberry blond friend of hers. She was beautiful, he realized, but kept the thought subconscious, as he delved into the thoughts that had brought him to his outward display of indifference—and 'lust'. He smirked. Or so Weaslette would think. 

_Fires flickered in the candle holders, illuminating the god-like face and body of Draco Malfoy. He sat on a green, black, and silver duvet cover, sliding his hand along black silk sheets. There was a knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Blaise came striding in, fury making her tense. _

_"What happened?" Draco asked after he looked up. Blaise gave him a look and he raised one sardonic eyebrow. She sighed lightly._

_"That idiot Weasel hexed Crabbe and Goyle so they couldn't beat up Potty when he insulted me." There was a pause. Blaise knew she wouldn't get away with lying but—_

_"Tell me the truth," Draco said, easily reading his friends emotions through years of spending time with her. "You wouldn't come to me about such things; you'd curse Potty before that." Blaise laughed. _

_"You're right, I would."_

_"So?" Draco looked up; her strung out answers were piquing his interest. Why wasn't she telling him the truth? Afraid he couldn't handle that? Even Blaise knew better than that! Who was better at handling than a Malfoy? Mentally reserving the thoughts for later, he asked quietly, "What did he say?"_

_That's when he noticed the slight smile making her lips pucker._

_"What?" he demanded incredulously. _

_Without turning her head towards him, she relayed the story. Draco, half relieved that it wasn't _that_ bad, decided that, overall, it was worth a good laugh. But Draco Malfoy didn't get his bad name for laughing over the teeniest pranks. He listened intently.  
_

_"It wasn't Wonder-Boy, it was that Dean Thomas, or whatever his name is, acting like a bloody idiot. Decided that I "had looked one too many times at his girlfriend." Hell, he's more of an idiot than I thought he was. As if _I_, Blaise Zabini, would be _lesbian!_" Draco smirked. _

_"That's all? Tut tut, Blaise. I expected more from you." He shook is head, giving her a taunting, sidelong glance. Resisting the bait, Blaise rolled her eyes.  
_

_"Did you? Or just anxious for a good story like the ones Snippy used to tell you?" she chided. Snippy was the house elf Draco had had when he was young. The elf would read him stories at night when his mother was…indisposed. Most often they were muggle stories, but, in order to make him fall asleep, Snippy would treat his master to the latest 'wizarding' stories for 'mature' children. _

_Draco blushed, porcelain cheeks tinted a light pink. "I thought they were wizard stories." He said lightly, refusing to look into her eyes. Then he laughed. "Right, you, a lesbian. I could just see it." Chortling slightly, he glanced back up to see Blaise laughing with him. _

_Wiping away the small tears of mirth, Blaise continued. _

_"But I want to give this...imaginative…Gryffindor something even more creative to think of."_

_Draco looked up sharply. _

_"Is this the beginnings of a little thing called 'revenge'? Draco asked, one slim white-blond eyebrow curving upwards gracefully. He really looked so adorable. Then Blaise grinned inwardly. As if she would tell him _that._ Adopting a smirk of her own she nodded slightly._

_"Imaginative revenge. And I already have a plan."_

_ A sneer crossed his face as his lip curled in slight admiration. _Really, _he thought,_ it must have taken her a while to come up with a decent plan. Maybe Blaise does have a brain in her head. Or perhaps, _he snorted, _she just had too much time on her hands.

"_Very Slytherin of you," he drawled, inwardly laughing along with his thoughts.  
_

_She glared at him as he smirked, brown eyes flashing playfully. As if only guys could be 'Slytherin.' Egocentric Malfoys. But you had to love him, even if he _acted_ like he didn't have feelings._

_ "What do you have in mind?" He continued. _

_"Well, how long has it been since we've played a game, like those dares we used to do? You know, daring you 10 galleons of our pocket money to do something like hex the neighbor's cat bald?" She smiled at the memory. Those were the good times, when their mothers were home._

_"Those were lame dares," Draco said, laughing slightly at her use of 'pocket money'. Like they'd had 'pocket money'. Their pocket money had been unlimited. It was the price you pay for having mothers who spoiled you in guilt of leaving you to go shopping in far away places. "Tell me what you're planning on," he added, interested._

_"I say we get back at him with a little creativeness of our own."_

_"Ahh and what sort of imagination do you have in mind, Blaise dear?" He asked again, sidling closer. _

_She swatted him as he moved up and gently trailed a finger down her arm. "I would _so_ like to know." She laughed at his playfulness. She hated to remember a time when he had been serious like this, so serious and seductive…_

_Lowering her head to whisper in his ear, she said,_

_"I say we play a little trick on Weasel's little sister."_

_Draco sat up. "Who, the little red riding hood?" Blaise looked at him in confusion. _

_"Nothing, just…Snippy," he added, a light pink blush appearing on his stainless cheeks. The girl nodded in comprehension. She cleared her throat in an uncanny imitation of Snape. "You were saying."_

_Shaking her hair out of her face, Blaise got down to business. "I dare you 500 galleons that you get under her skin and see which way sparks fly. Obviously, she and Dean are dating, and dating men are usually so overprotective." She glanced at him to gauge he reaction. Outwardly, Nothing. Inwardly...even she couldn't tell. Clearing her throat she continued. "So I say we make him think that you like Weasel's sister. It'll be amusing, at the very least." She pondered for a moment, biting her lip, her eyes staring in far off thought. "Besides," she added, "I've seen the way she looks at _you_."_

_Draco shivered and then grinned maliciously. He refused to think about those looks he'd caught from the Weaslette. _

_"And see which way sparks fly? Oh, I like that. Leave it to my sex god charm." She pushed him. _

_"Ow! Blaise--" he pouted when he saw her smile, rubbing the spot where she'd pushed him. Lips pulled up in a masculine pucker caused Blaise to chuckle. He had always been a sex god, no matter what mood he was in. Pulling her to sit next to him, Draco whispered, _

_"How about you show me just how bloody gorgeous you think I am?" shaking her head, Blaise got up and blew the chiseled angel a kiss before retracing her steps back to her bed. _

_Draco shivered, waiting for his chance to begin the dare in the next potions class. _

Snapping out of his thoughts, he emerged from his place behind the pillar and strolled leisurely up the wide stairs in time for Advanced Arithmancy with Blaise and the imbecilic Hufflepuffs. The game had begun. The dare was on.

* * *

I know, loves: it was a LONG chappie, but I just HAD to make up for the long absence of posting anything. PLEASE review to tell me what you think; if you see any edits that need to be done…or if you just lurve it! Chapter two is in progress, so I'll see you all and don't forget to REVIEW. 

OH, and just to see if anything noticed, cuz I have to site it: I _did_ use a PotC quote, and a quote from the song "Bittersweet" by Big Head Todd and the Monsters from the Kink Live 6 album…I like the song, it is, in my mind, fab. But than that's just me….

Toodles!!!!!


	2. Learning of Druids and a Hot Pink Magnet

I KNOW it took me SO long to post this. This is the chappie where Looney Luna Lovegood (triple L, eh?) pops up and happily turns my world upside down. Weeelll, not really, but I relate most to her, so I REALLY enjoy writing stuff about her. She is a very interesting, kooky character who I LURVE. Thanks, Jo, for creating Luna!!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own it, I never will, and sadly, I would never pass as Jo, so leave me alone and let me mope in peace. (You see me standing at a wall, beating my head against it. "Angst. Angst. Angst." I say.)

Ginny Weasley stared up at the ceiling, bored completely out of her mind.

_Boring, boring, boring, boring and boring again_She thought to herself.

Usually Ancient Runes was one of her favorite classes, owed the fact that they had a very eccentric teacher who enjoyed digressing from the topic at hand to talk about something actually interesting. In the hands of a different teacher, the class would have been, at best, a lengthy hour listening to a professor drone on and on. But today he did not go on any of his useless rambles, or discuss the 'holy' books with the 'learned' women currently occupying the desks. (Only to him were large tomes of runes 'holy' and no one besides his students were learned enough to participate in in-depth discussions.) Unfortunately for him, the only guy in the class was Colin Creevey, who, to many people's discretion, was actually a woman. (Colin never dispelled the rumors that he was gay, but smilingly told Ginny that "It's just a game to play"). Today they were actually studying, and instead of studying runes, they were looking at the solar calendar. According to Professor Helen—a name often sniggered at by the students and staff because he was, in fact, a guy—the solar calendar was an important part of some sort of ancient rune system and symbols blah blah blah.

Quite unenthused, Ginny kept staring off into the distance until a girl tapped her on the shoulder.

Turning her head to face Luna 'Looney' Lovegood, Ginny blinked in mild surprise. The girl's slightly protruding eyes were not focused in rapt, misty attention on the teacher, as per usual, but instead at her. Her infamous radish earrings swung from her ear lobes and she happily displayed her butterbeer cap collection around her neck, which looked like it had grown over the summer Like usual, she looked as though she had gone to her closet and thrown on…whatever.

"Whuh?" Ginny asked, surprised by Luna's lack of attention. Or maybe it was just the fact that she never really paid attention, but always seemed to. Deciding that it was worth talking to the girl if it provided some other more-appealing enterprise, she deterred her attention from the ceiling to look the girl in the face.

"Quite a boring class today, isn't it?" Luna whispered, glancing up at the teacher to make sure he didn't notice their inattentiveness. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice. According to Professor Helen, solar calendars were 'cool'.

"Yeah, I guess," Ginny said, blithely aware that this was a girl she often would associate with someone like Lavender Brown. But now, it seemed that this was no longer the case. She was unpopular, but was she really the suck-up Lavender could be? (At least in Divination.)

"I heard from a Ravenclaw earlier in the class that Professor Helen is going to—"

"And so, class, now you must get into partners. I expect three feet of parchment due next Wednesday about the symbols, runes and sun calendar on the ancient civilization of your choice." He clapped his hands. "You may begin."

"—assign us a paper," Luna finished cheerfully. Ginny stared at her in disbelief. She was _happy_ to be getting a paper. She shook her head. The girl was definitely 'Looney'.

"And I was wondering if you wanted to be my partner," Luna finished, staring at Ginny shaking her head. Casting a glance at Ruby, Ginny saw her already deep in conversation with Lavender Brown. Slightly surprised but also disappointed, she turned back to Luna.

"Uh, sure," Ginny replied. "But why me?"

"Well, we often sit together on the train and…" she didn't finish her sentence. Her face fell. A heavy silence fell between them, only broken by the murmurings of the rest of the class.

"What?" Ginny asked, concerned. But Luna had already continued, shaking her head and putting the smile back on her face.

"So, er, the paper?" Ginny asked, trying to get back to the essay. Luna nodded.

"I've heard a lot of people talking about doing the ancient Egyptians. I don't know about you, but I find the ancient Druids fascinating," she said.

"Druids?" Ginny speculated. She felt that Egyptians were very interesting, and easy, for a paper such as this one. Easy would be a nice change to the mounting pile of homework she had to do. If Luna wanted to do it, Ginny figured she'd go along. She seemed so happy. Misty-eyed Luna was, in her thoughts, a lesser of the 'Ravenclaw' classification. Sure, she was smart (why else would she be in Ravenclaw?) but she wasn't a genius. Realizing that Luna had gone on, Ginny shook away her thoughts and focused back on to the girl who spoke a mile a minute.

"Yeah, Druids. You know, the Celts practiced Druidism, so they are often called Druids. Druidism is a pagan religion associated with tree-worship and a book muggles call 'The Mists of Avalon'. I've read it, and it's actually very good, for a muggle author. But I bet that the Druids were all wizards. They sound so smart…" she trailed off after noticing Ginny's grin.

"What?" she asked, cocking her head. Her radishes jangled and her hair swung into her face.

"Nothing," Ginny replied. "You just make it sound so different. Tree worship. I've never heard of it."

"Oh yeah, there's loads of trees that they considered sacred. It's all very fascinating. So does it sound good?" Luna's protruding eyes gazed at her, questioning.

"Yeah, it's fine by me," Ginny replied. "Whatever you say." Luna smiled.

"Good," she teased. "Let's keep it that way." Laughing, Ginny decided to do just that.

In Arithmancy, Draco sat, cracking his neck. It didn't help that he had already finished the assigned work and had no one to patronize, considering the class was dead silent and Blaise was still busily scratching away at her parchment. A Hufflepuff scratched his head stupidly and started scribbling at his piece of paper next to him. Sighing, Draco gazed around at the Slytherin-Hufflepuff class. No one else was done. And, unfortunately, there was no one to curse, bother, or be otherwise malevolent to. Well, you couldn't have everything in life.

But you could come quite close.

Grinning wickedly, he eyed the scribbling boy. He had nothing to do, and the class too silent. It needed a little noise. No one would mind…at least, Draco wouldn't. Twisting his fingers in an exotic movement with his wand, he watched as the skinny teenager sprouted a long, curling, hot pink moustache that clashed considerably with his hazel eyes. Draco laughed to himself and watched the clock to see how long it took for anyone to notice. Strumming his fingers against the wooden desk, he noticed other student's heads were slowly rising, drawn by the hot pink magnet. Blaise rolled her eyes at him and smirked before returning to her essay.

The boy didn't notice his silver-eyed gaze was on him until it was too late. Most of the class was now giggling and pointing, and several Hufflepuffs were staring in disbelief.

"What?" he asked, drawn out of his scribbling fervor. Then he saw the eyes. 'What did you do?" the little boy squeaked. _He looks and sounds more like a mouse than a human,_ Draco thought bemusedly to himself. Shrugging his shoulders he eyed the poor kid with a look of Malfoy disdain, his lip curling. The boy gulped.

That was when all hell broke loose.

"Peter, what in the name—" another girl exclaimed as she noticed the pink newly-sprouted facial hair. Blaise glanced to her right, smiling wickedly as she admired the Hufflepuff's moustache and sniggered as his distress.

"I don't think hot pink suits him," she whispered in an undertone to Draco.

"Peter! What happened?" the blond, curly haired Hufflepuff cried over the ensuing commotion. The boy was biting his lip to keep back tears. Bloody Hufflepuffs. To overly emotional to be taken seriously. That was why they were so much fun to terrorize.

"I-I don't know," he stammered. Then he pointed to Draco. "H-he did it!" The girl turned to Draco. "What was the point of that?" she demanded. Draco donned a look of angelic innocence. The exaggerated puppy-dog look, ruined by a broad smirk, was anything but. It was, in fact, quite sexy.

"He's just a sour-faced git, Annie," the boy piped up. The moustache grew longer and curlier, putting a smile to Draco's face. His innocent look faded. Bloody Hufflepuffs.

"Little boys shouldn't taunt their superiors. Doing so may have…_consequences,_" he said in a ridiculously high imitation of Peter. The boy's face reddened. Draco continued. "I don't know how you even got into this class." He stopped a moment. "And why I have to put up with you."

"You're a g-git, M-Malfoy," he blubbered, causing the moustache to grow even longer. "And I got in because I'm smart. Not because my dad paid for it."

Draco laughed. "You, smart? I'd have never believed it if you hadn't just told me."

"Binns! Professor Binns!" the girl, Annie, cried. The snoring ghost woke up, blinking his eyes blearily at the chaos that had ensued while he slept.

"My, my, what is all the fuss? Oh, Mr. Higgly, what happened?"

Draco sat back and enjoyed the show. The tearful Higgly, with much hiccupping and stuttering, spilled the story to Professor Binns while Annie, with many punctuated 'yes's and 'that's right, you tell him Peter's, clung to his arm. Sighing in a very ghostly way, Binns turned to Draco, who tried without success to put his grin in the trunk.

"Mr. Malfoy, you will have thirty points from Slytherin for your bad taste in jokes. Mr. Higgly, you may go to the infirmary. Class dismissed." The Professor fell back in his chair, a snore parting his transparent lips. Peter ran out of the room, silently sobbing.

Shrugging his shoulders, Draco stood up, stretched and left the room. It had been a very good class.

Emerging from the door, the first thing Ginny noticed as she chatted with Luna (about trees, no less) was the platinum hair of Draco Malfoy as he descended the stairs from Advanced Arithmancy. A cold sneer contorted his face. Not that that was any different than usual.

The first thing Luna noticed was Harry Potter. The second thing she noticed was the bright pink moustache of a bawling Hufflepuff. Tears streamed down the boys cheeks.

"Oh, my," Luna said absently. Ginny rolled her eyes as the blond girl continued gazed at Harry's emerald ones.

Ginny stopped in her tracks, causing the students behind her to run into her back.

"Watch it—" the person said. A scream entered through the hallway.

"Peter!" The blond from Arithmancy ran after her sobbing boyfriend. Her scream drew everyone's attention to her woe-begotten, pink mustached boyfriend. As if the hot pink hadn't.

Ginny, without realizing it, had put her wand away and rolled up her sleeves. Anger turned her cheeks red, and her brown eyes narrowed. Just hitting 5'5", she barely reached Malfoy's collarbone. She strode over to where he smugly stood at the bottom of the granite stairs. His eyes glinted as she stood in front of him, staring up at his silvery orbs.

"Hello, Red," he said silkily, determined to get the better of her. Her next reaction stung, though. Forgetting words, Ginny pulled back her arm and slapped his cheek as hard as she could. The blow landed with a cracking sound, whip lashing his head around.

"I didn't deserve that," he said sorely, rubbing the red handprint. She grinned. It had hurt.

"That's for what you did," she said tartly, sparks nearly flying from her eyes. She didn't know if it was for what he did to the Hufflepuff (who, though smart, lacked guts) or if it was his agonizing actions in potions. She just knew that he deserved it.

Leaning down, he stared her in the eyes.

"What did I do?" he asked innocently. Ginny exploded. The glint in his eye egged her on, his vanilla breath, smelling fresh but putrid, coming from his lips. She raised her hand to slap him again, but instead started yelling, spittle flying from her lips in her vehement frustration. The surrounding students went quiet. Her shouts and curses echoed throughout the airy hallway, ringing up stairs and resounding through rooms. Ginny didn't care. She didn't even notice, even though she realized the noise she was making would surely bring _someone._

"What did you do? What did you do? I'll tell you what you did, you low down, arse-faced, son of a death eater murderer, bastard of a ferret—"

"Ms. Weasley!" a cry sounded from behind her. Ginny spun, dreading who she was going to see, but knowing she was there.

Immediately, students started yelling in her direction.

"It wasn't Ginny's fault, Proffessor—" Ruby cried.

"She was provoked—" Lavender yelled, along with the other attending students. Some Slytherins sat back and watched, but many continued walking.

Professor McGonagall strode up to her, speechless with amazement and fury. "Ms. Weasley, I expect more from you, no matter the circumstances. You should be ashamed. Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention Friday." Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but McGonagall cut in. "Hold your tongue." She turned around, expecting her to comply. Instead, Ginny, with a sinking stomach, called out to her retreating back.

"Professor—"

"What, Ms. Weasley?" McGonagall asked sharply, turning around.

"I already have detention Friday."

"Then next Friday. Come to my office then," and she left. With a sigh, Ginny left the scene; waving a mute goodbye to Luna, she left Ruby with her Lavender and walked quickly to the kitchen. She didn't feel like eating in the great hall, but that didn't mean she was going to starve. Belly grumbling, she made her way to the ticklish pear, disappearing into the kitchens without looking back.

YES! I used a Fiddler on the Roof quote from the Song "If I were a rich man". I couldn't help myself. The song has been playing in my head over and over and over and over again….

Review with your comments, por favor!!

Gilgaer


	3. Bottoms Up

**Disclaimer: We all know I don't own it. Nothing new there. Next?**

* * *

Chapter Three

Bottoms Up

"I don't want to hear it, Colin," Ginny said sourly when she stepped through the commons portrait. But her best guy-friend smiled, amused.

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen," he said. Ginny looked at him, suspicious. The baby-angel face stared back at her, eyes sparkling, girlish lips pulled up in a grin, framing his white teeth.

The commons were eerily silent as she slowly made her way toward the sofa by the fireplace. The hearth was cold with last year's ashes, left by the house elves. Ginny wanted somewhere warm and comfortable, and though it was too hot to actually light a fire, the sofa was the most comfortable of all. She wanted to sleep.

But first she wanted to think.

"Listen, I've had a long day, so please _bug off_." Sometimes you had to enunciate. He didn't always get the point. Then again, he made it a point not to.

"Nope," Colin said, giving a girly twirl. Ginny just laughed at his antics. No wonder people thought he was gay.

She shook her head. "You are such a stubborn—"

"Ginny!" Cheers erupted around the room. Her friends, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sprang up from behind the red and gold chairs and articles of furniture. Protesting weakly, Ginny was soon engulfed in a thrashing mob of happy red-clad Gryffindors.

Struggling to rise she spotted Ron charging through the portrait hole, Harry and Hermione trailing behind him. Ron's eyes shone with pride for his sister.

"Ginny!" he yelled, clobbering a first year in the head and shoving students out of the way in his attempt to reach her. Noting Hermione's warning glance, he looked back over his shoulder. "Sorry," he said meekly as the kid rubbed his head. "Midget," he muttered under his breath. Luckily, Hermione didn't hear him. Then he turned back to his sister.

"Gin, that was amazing! I can't believe you b-er, slapped the ferret in front of McGonagall. Just be glad it wasn't Snape." Ron's ill-timed remark about the hated potions teacher caused Ginny's smile to falter. Crap. Detention.

"I didn't know she was behind me," Ginny protested. Her face became red at the cat calls and hollers her friends threw about the room, and the radiant congratulations they pounded her on the back with. The people she didn't really know watched from the sidelines, mystified as to why everyone was yelling. Ginny blushed. She had only given Malfoy what he deserved. It was nothing much. Somehow she figured such humbleness wouldn't please Ron. And right then, she didn't need a rant about the atrocities Malfoy had committed during their infamous, and continuing, time at Hogwarts.

"That slap is definitely going to leave a mark," Harry chimed in, grinning from ear to ear. About to reply, Ginny let out a squawk as she was nearly bowled over by a cat-calling Seamus. Rolling her eyes at the usually reserved Irish boy, she managed a small smile, which soon turned into a large yawn.

"I guess the twins taught me well," she added mischievously. "Do you think I've topped them?" Harry shook his head.

"You've got a long way to go to do that," he said.

Another yawn nearly split her jaw open. Sitting herself down in the nearest chair, she eyed Hermione. The girl, her cheeks blushing light pink, split into a huge smile. "Great job, Gin. But, honestly, to do something like that in front of a _teacher_," she looked horrified at the thought.

Striding over, Colin plopped a butterbeer into Ginny's outstretched hand.

"Cheers," he said. "Drink. It's not very often anyone gets to slap the Prince of Slytherin, let alone a Gryffindor. Bottoms up." And with that he threw back his head and, with a hearty laugh, proceeded to drain the bottle. Ginny laughed with him, glad that her friends were enjoying the party. She, however, simply wanted to fall into bed and forget that the entire thing. That was not likely to happen, of course.

Ginny shook her head, handing the bottle to Ron.

"Come on, Ginny," Ron said, handing the bottle back to her. But Ginny refused.

"Why not?" he asked. "Are you feeling OK?" He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, searching her for any symptoms of a disease.

_Great_, she thought, _just what I need. A double dose of Brotherly concern. _

"Because, Ron," she said as patiently as she could. She couldn't get mad at her brother for nothing. It wasn't his fault that he could be a bit slow. Enunciating and holding in her temper, she continued. "I am tired. Or are my yawns testifying that I _enjoy_ splitting my face in two? I now have two detentions. Not one, but two. One is with Snape and the other with McGonagall. I want to sleep. Drink some butterbeer for me; I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

With a final look in their direction, she said goodnight to Colin and her friends and walked upstairs to the dorm.

The common room went quiet after her abrupt retirement.

"Mental," Dean remarked as he watched his ex disappear up the stairs.

"Shut up, Dean," Ruby hissed as she followed her friend up the staircase.

Dean looked taken aback. Considered as one of the nicest, hottest guys in Gryffindor, he wasn't used to rejection. Frowning like a sullen puppy, he glanced at Lavender. To his dismay, his crush had gone with Ruby, and was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, he pushed himself up from the chair he was in and strolled to the boys' dorm. Girls. They were far too finicky and hard to understand.

Slowly the common room emptied. Several fourth-year partygoers remained behind, mourning the loss of a good party and drinking the rest of the butterbeer themselves. By the time it was over they had chugged until their speech was slurred enough that they thought they might just swallow their tongues. Butterbeer wasn't very alcoholic, but in large quantities it became as potent as a bottle of beer. You just had to drink more of the warm, pleasing liquid. Muttering, they staggered, with many crashes, to their beds, leaving the musty fireplace and somber red and gold décor sitting alone in the dark.

* * *

The next day during classes the infamous story of Ginny's 'bitch slap' had circulated the entire school, earning her whoops from some and murderous glances from others. She didn't understand how the word had traveled so quickly until Hermione pointed out that "about a quarter of the school witnessed it, and so therefore if they all told least tell two friends, and those two told two friends, and so on, in about three hours the entire population of the school would know. Ron simply pointed out that "This is Hogwarts." And left it at that. Ginny preferred Ron's simplification, but didn't dare tell Hermione that. She was proud of her 'mathematical' skills. She explained that math was sort of like Arithmancy. Ginny didn't press the point any farther.

_You had to hand it to her, _Draco thought as he surveyed the halls and watched her bounce towards her next class. _She had guts. But where did those come from?_ The popular Gryffindor had seemed far from gutsy when she first walked into the halls of Hogwarts. She was timid, fearful—characteristics that seemed to grow as her first year progressed. Sure, she had been stubborn, but what Weasley wasn't? That hadn't seemed to do her any good, though, till the past few years. Slowly the fear and timidity had left her, replaced with her Weasley stubbornness, determination, and spirit, eager to try new things and succeed in whatever she put herself to. Not that she always did. Although good at Quidditch, she would never be able to match him, he thought. For one thing, they were riding completely different brooms. For another? Well, call him sexist, but Draco _knew_ that guys were better at sports that girls. He was still waiting for someone to prove him wrong. But whatever way you looked at it, timidity was not a word used to describe Ginny Weasley anymore.

Malfoy continued through the day, observing the girl with his mercucial eyes. He glowered at anyone who came too close, hexed the first years in the Slytherin common room and behaved more haughty and conceited than ever. The only thing otherwise marring his perfection and character was the shaming red handprint on his porcelain face. He bore it as the medal of his chivalry. _Or,_ he thought,_ the medal of my irresistibility. _

Beyond the Slytherins, the rest of the student body pointed and whispered. The entirety of the school seemed to be laughing at him. Which is probably was.

Ginny, with a sedated air, ignored him most of the day. Through the hallways, in the Great Hall, she pretended not to notice his contemptuous looks and aloof air. She ignored the silver eyes that followed her, expressionless, and the prowling grace with which he stalked the halls. She acted as though he was invisible. Likewise, he ignored her, though it was simply because he refused to rise to the tantalizing bait. He yearned to pester her, provoke her—anything to drive her mad and make her crack. The red-haired Weaselette was amusing, if dangerous, when she was on fire, and he enjoyed savoring the fact that he could arouse such anger. Overall, it was only the reason that _she_ seemed to find him so easy to ignore which kept him silent.

To put it simply, it irked him.

He was _not _going to have a _Weasley_ be better at something, _anything_, than a Malfoy. That would be preposterous.

The battle of the wills had been ensuing for five hours when Malfoy finally snapped. Not a glance in his direction, not a tensing when he came near. She revealed nothing to his presence, and he wanted to know why.

Sidling up to her in the back of potions, he watched his prey carefully. He did not want to be ignored. He did not like being ignored; not when he knew that he was hottest guy in the school, the snobbiest, richest, sexiest teen to ever walk the halls. He was proud of that fact.

His sentence, "Looking good, Red," died in his lips as she robbed him of the chance to speak it.

"You have no self control, do you, Malfoy?" she hissed. He looked at her, raising one eyebrow.

"What do you mean? Malfoys are the epitome of self control," he scoffed.

"And you are displaying this so called self control how?"

"Well," he drawled, letting his sex god side take over. He motioned to the steamy fog that clouded the room. "There is very little visibility. If I felt like it I could make you squirm, turn you into a puddle of jelly, or otherwise have my way with you, no magic allowed."

"As if you would," she said angrily, her face lit up by a red-hot blush.

"You know I could, Red," he said softly, the threat lighting up his silver eyes.

"Is that a threat, Malfoy?" she asked defiantly, balling her fists.

He just looked at her. "Yes."

She glared. "Do you want to?"

Before answering, he let his eyes roam her body. His heated gaze caused the blush to reappear, redder than ever. "No," he said, disgustedly. _But I'd like to see you squirm and melt into a puddle of jelly. It'd be very amusing._

He sneered. She shook slightly, her glaring gaze never leaving his. "Now who has no self control, eh, Red?" he asked.

"Oh, I have self control, _ferret_, I just don't always use it. You, unfortunately, don't have any. Poor you." Malfoy stiffened.

"That's a bad comeback, Red," he said.

Ginny seemed not to notice. She'd hit a nerve, and she wasn't about to back down.

"What? Has no one ever said that they are sorry for you?"

"I don't want their sympathy, so why should it matter?" he snapped. It was Ginny's turn to sneer in a very Slytherin like way. It was nice having the upper hand.

"Just admit it. No one's ever said "Draco, I'm sorry for you'."

A spark caught his eye.

"You just did." Ginny narrowed her eyes before letting out a silent shriek of frustration.

"Different context. Has anyone actually ever meant it?" His eyes narrowed. "Didn't think so."

"Maybe not, but I, however, feel sympathy for _you_. Poor as a hatter, you are, and enough of other peoples' pity to feed you for a year." He cursed himself. It was the worst insult he'd ever come up with.

Her eyes widened at his insult to her family. She raised her hand as if to slap him, and Draco leaped back, nearly running into an empty stool in his haste. No emotion registered in his fathomless eyes, but Ginny knew that her slap had hurt, and he didn't want to go through it again.

"Self control, eh, Malfoy? You show fear easily enough."

And with the final word, she disappeared into the thick steam, red hair bouncing, leaving a seething Malfoy and a victorious grin on her face. Ginny one, Malfoy zero.

* * *

Draco couldn't believe it. The impertinent little Weasel had managed to get in the last word. _He _was supposed to be the victorious one, not the one left seething in the background. It was a shallow victory, he consented, but a victory non the less. How did she do it? He huffed. He puffed. He stormed sulkily to his dorm room, nearly blowing the door down in his vehement anger.

"Tut tut, Draco," Blaise said from the bed. "Where did the calm, cool collected Malfoy go, eh? And your _self control_?"

He sneered at her. "Don't mind my self control. What's it to you?"

"I've never seen you worked up over a girl this much before."

"I'm not worked up over her. She pisses me off. That's all."

Blaise looked at him knowingly. "Right." Draco tried to change the subject.

"Why are you in here, anyway?"

"What happened to the word 'best-mate'?"

"That's two words, Blaise."

"So?"

"Holy shite, can you even count?"

"Yes: one, two, three, ten," she said sarcastically. "Get over it, Draco."

"Over what?"

"The little Weasley."

"I am already."

"Of course. That's why you're staring off into space with an angry look on your face."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not, Blaise."

"Are too."

"Am not—"

"Jeez, will you stop acting like children in there!" came Pansy's voice from the door. "Draco, baby, I need to talk to you," she whined.

"Not now, Pansy." He threw a disgusted look at Blaise. "I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

Grinning wickedly at Draco, Blaise cut in.

"Oh, Draco, oh," she moaned.

Pansy shrieked.

"Draco! You cheating little—open the door right now!" Fighting off the giggles, Draco joined in on Blaise's joke. Through their combined moaning, Draco heard Pansy stomp off. _Probably crying,_ he thought. As if I would ever do her. He grimaced at the thought.

As soon as she was gone they stopped. Blaise grinned, but Draco noticed that it seemed a little strained. He shrugged it off. _Probably just her time of the month,_ he thought. Draco was brought back to reality by Blaise.

"So what are you going to do about the Weasley?"

Draco had no idea, and he preferred not to think about it. His anger at her shallow victory came back, and he inwardly let out a sigh. Outwardly he expressed nothing. Sometimes there were things he couldn't even say around Blaise, let alone think about. Girls were too intrusive. She shrugged.

Opening her mouth to say something, Blaise was stopped by Draco.

"I have to go," he said, picking up his cloak.

"Do what?"

"Nothing," he said lightly. In reality he wanted to go think and mull over his thoughts. There was only one place in the castle that he could. He strode away, not looking back at his best mate's face, who sat, still and silent, on his green duvet.

* * *

Blaise watched as Draco left the room, apparently thoughtful. She shut her mouth, knowing it was useless to try and call him back. Draco, for seem some reason, spent a lot of time doing 'Nothing'. In this mood (though highly cheered up by their combined joke on Pansy) there was no way she would get him to listen. Best to let him go and talk to him later. Nodding a mute farewell, she waited until the door was closed soundly and the lock clicked. Then, pulling out a small box, she hugged it to her chest and let a tear spill down her cheek. Cursing the mood swings of Malfoys, she sat there, resigned, waiting for him to come back so she could break the news.

* * *

Draco hurried toward the Great Hall. His footsteps, silenced on the stair carpet, now echoed as he hastened along the stone to the large room. Easing open the door, his eyes flitted around the room, making sure it was empty. It was. By 9:00 at night twilight had come and the students were in their common rooms, working on homework and playing wizard chess. He slipped through the door.

The cavern stretched on before him, hard stone floor cold, shadows from the tables and the few flickering candles magnified by the twilight. He stared up at the ceiling. The moon had appeared above, giving off a faint illuminating light. The night was clear, and stars gleamed softly. The figure of the Great Dipper, Ursula Major, shone above his head. Peace filled the entire room; peace instilled by the quiet moon and the gentle silence which seeped through the doors. All was silent, all was peaceful, and all thoughts were lost.

"Mars is bright tonight," he remarked softly as he noticed the bright planet. No breeze was there to ruffle his hair, but Draco felt that, if he tried hard enough, a breeze from the past would engulf him and leave him clean of all things. 'The power of the wind,' he called it. A spirit that comes to take all evil away.

Had anyone peeked through the open door they would have seen a tall blond-haired boy standing in the center of the hall, his black cloak slung loosely around his shoulders, his eyes fixed on the celestials above.

* * *

**A/N.: OK, so I have a quote I'd like to cite. It's from a Panic at the Disco song, **_**Nails for Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks**_**. I wanted to put in more, but I couldn't find the right place. Next chappie! I hope you all enjoyed it, even though it was sort of long (on word it's five pages…yeah, I know, 'that's SHORT!' sigh. Well, I do try…). OH, and I know, Three Little Pigs quote ish. I just put it in cuz I felt it fit and it came to me. **

**Please, please, please review! They make me really happy and make me sing. Quite literally. They are also extremely motivating and urge me on in this fic. This is the farthest I've ever gotten with an actual book (I could never find the time) so please, if you want to read more, review! Or PM me! I would love to hear from you! Love you! Bye!**


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